“Well, don’t keep the King of the Fae Realm waiting,” Drake’s tone was mocking. “You have quite enough to contend with.”
All mirth, little though it was, disappeared. “You’re right. Would you bring them in? The way things are, if I send a servant, feelings will be-“
Drake held up a hand. “No need to say more.” He left, and Brennan walked from the dressing area into his study, taking the seat behind his desk. He leaned back in his chair. He really did not feel ready for this, but there was no helping it. Lying and deceitful though his parents had been, this was still the Fae King, and it was his responsibility to work with him.
In what seemed like too short a time, Drake appeared in the doorway again, and then stepped in to hold the door wide.
Nerida swept in, and one glance told Brennan that he wasn’t the only one unhappy to be meeting.
He marveled at his mother’s ability to be the victim even though she’d created the situation and done the wrong. He sighed, and stood up, taking care to stand as straight as he could.
“Mother, Father, I’m glad you’re here-“
“Are you? I’m not so sure.” Nerida wasted no time in setting the tone.
Something inside Brennan broke. He actually felt like he’d stepped on a branch that made an audible crack. Iris’ words rang in his ears. He deserved better from his parents. He didn’t owe them anything other than civility and there was nothing wrong with demanding not only answers, but that they treat him appropriately. He thought of the struggles she’d had with her parents. While she was so much younger, in some-many ways, she was so much wiser in her dealings with people. His subjects in the castle were no exception. She had been born to be a leader.
He dragged his mind from the more pleasant thoughts of Iris back to Nerida.
“Well, personally, I am not sure why you are surprised that I am not happy with you, nor that I am uncomfortable in dealing with you. You lied to me my entire life, and placed a burden on me that you had no right to put on me. Your lies have endangered our respective kingdoms, and even with the power that is mine, I am unsure of our success in battling the forces against us. I have every right to feel as I do. However,” He held up a hand because Nerida had opened her mouth, “I remember always who I am. I am the Goblin King. As the Fae King and Queen, it is your responsibility to work with me to insure the magic of our kingdoms does not go awry. In that capacity, I am asking that you please sit. I will be happy to send for refreshment. We may be here a while, as I have much to tell you on what Drake and I have learned, and I think you will have much to share as well.” He waved his hand, indicating they should sit.
He felt vindicated when Jharak’s mouth lifted slightly. He couldn’t laugh, Brennan though. The man did have to live with Nerida.
“I think that’s a wise idea, Brennan,” said Jharak. “Nerida?” His tone mild, he looked to his wife.
Even Brennan could hear the command in it. Nerida sat, crossed her arms, and pursed her lips. And people wondered where his filthy temper came from, Brennan thought. No need to look any further than this study.
He caught Drake’s eye, and could see Drake’s thoughts ran similar. He glared. They didn’t need to make it worse with their mother, no matter how she might deserve it.
“I am interested to hear what you have learned,” Jharak said mildly.
Brennan nodded to Drake, who stepped forward and pulled up a third chair.
“Did you know that there were still dragons alive?”
Jharak threaded his fingers together, leaning back. “I know the Dragon King has stewardship of the ones who are left. They are old, but as they live so long, it’s to be expected that some are left.”
“How many are there, do you think?” Drake continued.
“Oh, maybe ten? Twelve? After the dragons nearly destroyed us all, we hunted them down, and bound them through much magic. They had also slaughtered many of their own kind in the process.”
Drake shook his head. “I am sorry to tell you, Father, I don’t believe that’s true.”
Jharak leaned forward. “Why?”
Drake told him of their spy, and the conversation she’d heard between Ailla and Eilor.
“Are you sure? Eilor is proud, and headstrong but I can’t see him being that foolish,” Jharak said.
Nerida snorted.
“You have something to add, my dear?”
“Of course he is that foolish,” Nerida said, her tone sharp. “He’s harbored Cian for all these years. He knew of Dhysara. He has allowed her to be with Cian, never mentioning a word of this to us.”
“Do you believe he knew who Cian was? According to Drake, he was known at the Dragon Court as Kalen, and not only did Eilor allow Dhysara to move to the Dwarf Realm with him, he allowed Cian to return to the Dragon Court and associate with Ailla. To the point that the court is surprised Ailla did not become betrothed to him.” He glared at his parents. “How could you not have known this, Father? Mother? What happened to knowing what went on in other realms?”
Jharak looked down, but not before Brennan saw the anger cross his father’s face. “I admit that we have become lax. There has been so little dissent, or problem, in any of the realms for so long, I didn’t worry that my network of informants has become so small.”
“Well, perhaps we ought to have known more about the realm you wished to marry into our family.”
“Stop it,” Nerida interjected. “I won’t have you berate your father or I. We wanted the best for you.”
“It’s a good thing I dragged my heels so much!” Brennan shot back. “Had I married Ailla, there is no guarantee I, or you, would still be on the throne. Our realm would be in chaos. I would think you would be grateful that we escaped such a fate.”
Nerida clamped her mouth together. Brennan could tell he wasn’t getting anything more out of her.
Jharak rested a warning hand on hers. “We are grateful, Brennan. I appreciate that you had hesitation for this match. It suggests that perhaps you knew something was not quite right. You’ve good instincts, son.”
He looked at Drake. “I can tell you’ve had some news. Tell me, all of it.”
Brennan leaned back as Drake shared all that they knew and then went into great detail about Cian appearing in his castle.
Jharak looked angry during that piece of Drake’s story. “I am so sorry that he has made you such a target, Brennan. It’s odd,” he tapped his finger against his lip, and Brennan wondered if that was what he himself looked like doing it. “Cian doesn’t seem to have the full picture of the scope of responsibilities in regards to the kings of the realms.”
“Iris suggested he didn’t…” Brennan hesitated, wanting to get the words right. Then he decided to not worry about it. Father was listening, and nothing he said would make it better with his mother. “She said, when I told her about it, that he still sounded like a child, almost as if his development into adulthood was stinted in some manner.”
He ignored Nerida’s intake of breath.
“It’s an interesting idea. He may not have any access to those who know what really goes on,” Jharak said.
“I thought that no one else knew my role,” Brennan said.
Jharak held up a hand. “No one does. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t speculation. It could be as he’s allied himself with the Dragon Realm, and so many are careful in their dealings with that court that there is not as much information making its way to the court.”
“Or out,” said Drake. “It’s been remarkably difficult to get any information as to what is going on.”
“You trust Carlianah?” Jharak asked.
“She must be upset that Niko’s father has halted negotiations for the time being,” Nerida said. “From what I can tell, it’s a love match, and something that has been in the works for some time.”
Trust his mother to be up on the court gossip. At least she wasn’t snapping at him. For the moment.
“I’m more interested—and concerne
d—about this half-dragon girl Drake mentioned,” Jharak said. “Are you sure this is exactly what Carlianah told you?”
Drake nodded. “Yes, Father, I am. She was appalled. Apparently, this effort with the dragons is not well known. She knew enough to know it would cause problems.”
“Are you sure she’s not just angling to get what she wants?” Nerida asked.
“I think most people put themselves out to get what they want,” Brennan said, hoping he sounded calm. “Self-motivation is often the reason anyone does anything.”
Nerida glared. He glared back.
“Well, let us see what we can find out about these new dragons. And dragons that can shift into fae—that is worrisome,” Jharak said.
His father had a way of phrasing even looming disaster mildly.
“Now, tell us of you, Brennan. You’ve not said a word about the attack.”
Nerida drew back in her seat, crossing her arms. Brennan ignored her, and looked at his father. He couldn’t bear to look at her. Next to him, he felt Drake’s anger.
“I am not completely healed, but I will be. Taranath feels this is some form of old magic, or dragon magic—something we’ve not used in many years. He doesn’t recognize how Cian got past his wards.”
“He’s added more protection to the castle?”
Drake answered this one. “Yes. I went round with him to test the wards.”
“Do you think it will hold against Cian?” Nerida asked.
There was something in her tone he couldn’t identify.
“I hope so. If not, it will kill him.” He let it out gently, but knew it wouldn’t be received as such.
Nerida leapt from where she sat. “You cannot kill him, Brennan! He is your brother!”
Drake stood at Brennan’s side before he had a chance to say a word. “No, Mother, he is not. From all that Brennan told me, and what I have found out on my own, Cian was an awful ass to Brennan before he got hurt. If he’d gone on the way he had, he would have been an equally horrid man and king. Petty and concerned with making himself feel better. You should be glad that you will not leave the realm to such a mean child.”
Nerida opened her mouth to speak but Drake held up a hand and she stopped.
Drake continued, “Now, he’s a grown-up with a mean child manner, and he’s tried to kill Brennan, the son who you lied to and cheated of a decent childhood, at least once. I suspect more. So no, he is no longer Brennan’s brother. He may still be your child, but he has no brother in this room. For you to say otherwise is a great insult to your sons that stand before you.”
Brennan didn’t know what to say. He risked a glance at Jharak. His father’s mouth hung slightly open, and his expression showed all that Brennan felt as well. Nerida didn’t react as calmly. Her face went red, and then white. She opened and closed her mouth a few times and Brennan could see that she clenched her hands as she did so. He didn’t think she was aware of it.
“You think you replace him?” She breathed.
Brennan was shocked at the anger, the venom in her voice. Drake heard it to, and Brennan saw his brother’s face pale. He couldn’t let this go on.
He stood, placing an arm on Drake’s. “No, he does not replace him. Had you merely replaced Cian, I would not have Drake standing here now, beside me. You gave me the brother I deserved, even if that wasn’t your intention. And yes, Mother, should Cian show himself here again, I will kill him. Or Drake will. Or Taranath. Or whomever is close enough and skilled enough to do so. He means nothing but ill to me and those I love. I daresay even you will be on the list of people he means to harm. What you choose to do about it is not my decision, although I implore you to not trust him, and keep yourself safe. But he has threatened me and all those I love, and my realm. So yes, he will die.”
Now Jharak stood, making the room feel small with all them so close together and all the strong emotion out in the open.
“My dear, I do not fault Brennan or Drake. I also understand where your point of view comes in. Perhaps you might go to our chambers here, and I will finish the discussion with our sons?”
Nerida stared at him for what seemed a long time. Without a word, she stepped away from the seating area and went to the door. When she opened it, she stopped and looked at all three of them. “I will not forgive my husband and sons for the death of my lost son. I tell you that now.” Then she walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.
Brennan watched her, and then dropped into his chair. “That went well.”
Drake clapped him on the shoulder. “Better to have it out in the open, Bren. No sense in being dishonest. The bastard comes here again, I will kill him.”
Jharak sat down. “Drake, sit. I hate being loomed over.” When Drake did, Jharak continued. “There is no choice, and I understand that, as much as it pains me. I understand why your mother is upset. Be prepared. She will no doubt be unkind.”
“She’s already been unkind,” Brennan said. “You both have. You have never told me why you let me think I killed him. Do you know what that did to me? And now, when he threatens me, Drake, Iris, all that is important, when he threatens this entire realm for what is basically a nursery tantrum, I am expected to understand? To make allowances?” His voice rose, and he knew that yelling at his father got him nowhere, but he no longer cared.
“Had you and Mother dealt with this, I would not be having to do so now! My family would not be in peril. So do not tell me what I must do to further accommodate you!” Too angry to sit still, he got up and walked along the edge of the room, not wanting to face his father.
“You are right,” Jharak’s low tones came finally. “We owe you such an apology for not giving you the truth. And we did not remove the burden for you. We ought to have. We thought—”
Brennan turned to see his father wave a hand.
“Well, it does not matter what we thought, because we were wrong. I am sorry that Cian is seeking you out, and that he is making himself a threat and a nuisance to all. However, you will not have to marry Ailla, and given your feelings on that, I would say that is something to be thankful for. It’s an argument you’ve won with me.” Jharak leaned forward, intently looking at Brennan. “You will need to kill him. I agree with you. Your mother—well, she is not yet come round to the sensible manner of thinking. I cannot think on the fact that this is my son.” He looked away suddenly, and Brennan could see the pain on his father’s face.
“I think you are right,” Jharak said, looking at Drake. “The Cian I knew, the boy I loved, died long ago. I will not deny how hard this will be, should I see him again. I cannot vouch for your mother, so I will do my best to keep her from seeing him again. But you have my blessing, my thanks, and my sincere apology that you must be the one to do this.”
Brennan looked down, more moved than he could admit. His father rarely spoke so, and he could hear the ring of sincerity in his father’s words.
“Now, let us bring my mage, and yours in, and let us plan for how to discover what, exactly it is that brat has cooked up. I do not want you hurt again,” Jharak said.
Brennan could hear the steel in his tone. It might hurt his father, but he could tell that he’d made his decision about Cian. The hurt and anger he’d felt towards his parents since discovering Cian alive felt slightly smaller, hearing this from Jharak.
“I’ll fetch them,” Drake was at the door.
“Wait,” Jharak said. “Come here, Drake.”
When Drake walked back to the seating area, Jharak stood, and pulled both of them towards him. “I do not wish to lose any more children,” he said, and the emotion stood in stark relief in his voice. “Be careful, my sons.” He held them closer to him for a moment, and then released them. “Now let us bring in the mages – but before we do, I must speak to you both. Please, sit.”
Brennan sat back down, unsure of what to say. Drake sent him a surprised look. He couldn’t remember the last time Father had hugged him.
All of the anger felt as though it
drained away.
Jharak stood back, looking at both of them. “I have never told you of this, Brennan, but I am certain I know where Cian’s irrational hatred comes from. Shortly before, well…” Jharak looked uncomfortable.
“Before he decided to behave horribly to his brother?” Drake asked coolly.
Jharak squared his shoulders and met Drake’s eyes. “Yes, before that, and all that happened afterwards. He overheard your mother and I talking. We were discussing you becoming the Goblin King. While we didn’t get into specific reasons as to why—we don’t discuss that if it can be helped as you never know who is listening—I know your mother said something along the lines of ‘Well, we’re lucky that it’s our son who has the skills needed.’ I remember this,” he turned away, clasping his hands behind his back. His voice, when he spoked again, had become hoarse. “I remember this because your mother and I had a very intense argument with Cian. He wanted to know why you were special, why he couldn’t be king of all the realms, and what made you special and not him.”
Jharak turned around, and Brennan could see that nearly seven hundred years later, the memory of that argument had never left his father. “What could we tell him? Not the truth, certainly. But that was the point where Cian ceased to be your loving, older brother and started on the road that led to where we are today. I ask your forgiveness, Brennan.” His head dropped.
“For what?” Brennan couldn’t remember the last time he was so surprised and shocked. First at the truth, and then at his father’s words. Why had his parents never told him any of this before? It would have explained much.
“For making things worse, perhaps, than they needed to be. Nerida and I didn’t handle Cian’s anger well. We had just learned you were the heir to the Goblin Throne. It’s not what one wishes for their child. It’s the most difficult responsibility in all the realms. I was pleased you showed the aptitude, but…” He stopped. “It’s not an easy position, as well you know. And then to have a son who had been so loving, so kind, turn mean and hateful, and throw such words as he did to us—we didn’t handle it very well. Nor did we tell you the truth.” He sighed and sat. “I would like to tell you that it was all your mother, but I agreed with her argument.”
To Wed The Goblin King (The Realm Trilogy Book 2) Page 14
